Blue Diamonds
by foxyx
Summary: Headcanon on what really happened the night Leon and Mathilda shared a bed.


**Blue Diamonds**

_Inspired by the song 'Blue Diamonds' – Rusted Root_

_Disclaimer – The characters and story they are based in are all under ownership of Luc Besson. I own nothing and make no profit, I'm simply just a kid playing in a dollhouse._

* * *

It was obvious that Leon was failing to relax under such estranged circumstances. The stretched, calculated breaths told her that. It was only to be expected, of course, as his routine of several years had been suddenly and reluctantly interrupted. She imagined it was probably even before her own lifetime that Leon last lay in a proper bed, not counting his daily sit-up regimen. Part of her started to wonder if forcing him into it had actually been a good idea, and for a fleeting second worried she might be acting out of a selfishness. But she was quick to shake the idea from her thoughts before it could consume any further. There was no harm in sleeping in a bed together, she assured herself. Equally as harmless as she believed her initial proposition would be.

Thanks to her incessant train of thought, ideas and fantasies began trickling into her mind like thick syrup, and that warm feeling in her stomach returned tenfold. The butterflies were alight. She suppressed a soft groan in the back of her throat and brought a hand down to spread it over the supple skin surrounding her belly button.

Leon was making his best effort to relax despite the discomfort that settling in unfamiliar territory established, but he couldn't help but notice immediately when Mathilda began stirring beneath the sheets. He knew from the get go that the whole situation was a bad idea, but now his suspicions were beginning to play out right before his very eyes; eyes that lay fixed on the chipped cream ceiling while struggling to ignore the impulse nagging at the forefront of his mind. Still, out of inherent concern, and perhaps a pinch of foolishness, it was only a short matter of time before he eventually reached over with his free arm. "Is everything okay, Mathilda?" he asked, blanketing her bony exposed shoulder in a warm, gentle touch. "I can leave if you change your mind..."

Mathilda's hand reacted so fast, as if him offering to leave was tantamount to an actual, real life threat. "No, Leon," she said, clutching desperately at his hulking fingers.

It wasn't her pitiful exertion of strength that prevented him from removing his hold. Weak against her violent plea, Leon felt his heart rate quickly begin stepping out of line again, inviting its favorite long lost friend 'Leon's emotions' along for the ride. He inhaled deeply and forced both eyes shut, continuing to focus solely on maximizing his efforts in finding peace of mind and quelling the nerves that refused to play nice. But it became really fucking hard when she loosened her grip and arbitrarily began running her fingers in a light pattern over his own, delicately tracing over every vein, bone, lump...

"... Mathilda, please," he begged, in a tone that defied his very own will; a will that was slowly diminishing in a race with time. With great effort, he finally managed to slip his hand out from under her touch and returned it loyally to his side.

But he was a fool to think his restraint alone would be enough.

The butterflies continued to burn brighter and stronger, and every move Mathilda made felt like it was being swayed by an otherworldly force, inspired by the countless stories she read, watched, heard. But, in retrospect, none of the stories had even come close to describing how it actually felt in that very moment. Perfectly unaware of what she was doing or what she would do next, she blindly allowed the butterflies to take hold of the reins, guiding her through the darkness and blissfully ignoring every socially constructed principle she'd been raised to abide by.

Before the evanescent warmth could completely vanish from her fingers, she lowered them to his second arm wedged between the mattress and her waist. She took his hand in hers and slowly, as if treading thin ice, began dragging it down south past her navel... past the inferno of caged winged critters...

In one fell swoop the flourishing warmth was immediately robbed from her; flames extinguished at a fraction of a second. Her sprig body jerked and bounced in the sea of sheets as he withdrew so hastily from her, allowing a frigid distance to develop quickly between them.

Faced away with his back hunched and legs slung over the edge of the bed, he covered his eyes with one hand and let out a heavy, shaken sigh.

"Mathilda... I told you to stop..." he chided, strain curling around every word.

For a second, Mathilda didn't move. She calculated his strong reaction and considered perhaps just letting it go. But the other part of her, the part that knew for a fact what she wanted, also felt like it knew what he really wanted. He was just too afraid to admit it. But she wasn't.

Bringing herself to her knees with a determined resolve, she crawled over to his side and carefully rested her chin on his shoulder, large eyes boring fixedly into the contours of his face.

"No, you didn't," she informed, matter-of-factly.

Bowled over in defeat, he dropped his hand and slowly turned his head to look at her. She lifted herself from his shoulder so as to even with him, all the while carefully maintaining the scant space in-between. The last time she'd been so close, she'd tried to interrupt their commemorative dinner with a kiss, but his refusal to entertain the notion had dispelled the intimacy faster than it had spawned. Twice now he'd managed to dismiss her advances, but for some reason this time around he couldn't seem to find the strength within him to effectively uphold his protest; something about thirds and charms, he supposed.

Her large, shining brown eyes explored far into the near depths of his own and he found himself completely entranced by them, unable to look away, unable to move, unable to speak. Through the window, the cool reflection of the moon splashed her skin with a million tiny blue diamonds. Too valuable, too pristine, and far too damn beautiful to belong in his presence. It made him feel like crying.

Goddammit, he was.

He didn't even notice her raise a hand to his face until the faint brush of balmy fingertips upon his cheek quickly reacquainted him with reality. A reality that still denied him the power to oppose; willing him only to be still and watch.

Rough, she thought, as her thumb wiped a lone tear that had trickled down into the shadow of unkempt bristles. It was her first time caressing the growth of a matured man's face and, although lacking a more conventionally desirable quality, the coarseness intrigued her. For some reason she couldn't nor wanted to stop touching it.

Noticing that Leon remained passive, simply enabling such interaction to transpire, she was tempted to dive a little deeper. The flame had rekindled in the pit of her stomach after drowning in his penetrating gaze for what felt like an eternity, successfully washing away any trace of control she previously held over her actions.

Unable to withstand the impulse, she didn't have to lean in very far to close the distance between them, sweetly pressing her lips to his.

Neither of them moved in the moment that followed. Or the one after that.

The stubble surrounding his mouth felt doubly abrasive against her chaste lips; his innate, sweaty musk assaulting her senses more than usual. But she indulged in this foreign sensation, fuelling the fire, feeling it grow stronger within her core.

With her hand still on his cheek, she trailed it along the jaw to his chin, finally splitting the prolonged seal between their lips. As she remained hovering from a hair's width, she pressed down on the curve of his chin ever so gently with her thumb, creating a small parting between his lips. Glancing down at the subject of interest, she thought about the details of French kissing that she'd only ever heard about from her classmates. At the time, she had been so put off by the idea of it, but in this moment she never wanted anything so much. As if under its own control, her tongue slipped out and timidly licked his upper lip, inviting him to engage.

And oh, he did. Not even the gods could pull him away at that point; he was fully prepared to welcome hell with open arms. Reaching across his body, he placed a firm hand on her waist and pulled her in closer, deepening the kiss as he did so. There was a primal hunger rooted within him imposing on every moral constraint in its best attempt to take over, but he fought hard to suppress it, having every good intention of treating Mathilda instead with the tenderness and love she deserved. He'd forgotten how intoxicating it felt to have another person's lips upon his own; the sensation caught him so off guard that he became hopelessly incapable of rationalizing his thoughts any longer. Once that barrier between them had finally broken down and plunged into water under the bridge, the raw energy circulating through them evolved into something electric, and he couldn't help but yearn for more.

She could see then why all her classmates got addicted to sex. They weren't even having sex, yet the feeling she got from their embrace was far better than anything she'd ever felt before. Exceedingly better than cigarettes. Cigarettes could never kiss back, hold her, love her... She couldn't fathom bringing another hazardous white stick to her lips ever again if the superior option of kissing him was available to her instead.

Suddenly remembering a scene from a film her sister was once watching, Mathilda rested her hands on Leon's shoulders while awkwardly shifting her weight onto his lap. Straddling his hips with wobbly knees, she lowered herself and promptly felt an unmistakable mass protrude against the sensitive, warm space between her thighs. The instant such contact was made, Leon's head jerked back and a sharp inhale pierced his lips. Mathilda's wide eyes blinked in return, studying his expression for a hint of what he might be feeling. Wary it could be some kind of pain, she hoisted herself back up from him a little. His darkened eyes trailed back down to meet with hers, mouth hanging slightly agape in his typical dumbstruck way.

"Does that hurt?" she asked, naïve eyes still searching his blank face for any kind of indication.

There was an immediate switch in Leon's expression. He curled his fingers around her hips in response and gracefully, yet firmly, lowered her back down into his cramped lap.

"No... It doesn't hurt..." His voice was soft.

Raising a hand to her face, he lightly tucked a section of hair behind her ear and for a precious moment soaked in every ounce of beauty radiating from her. To think she was worried about hurting him... if only she knew.

He rested his hand on the back of her head and gently pulled her in for another tender kiss, trembling as he surrendered to the flow of blood accumulating relentlessly towards the one spot below her shy weight. In a way, he supposed it actually was a bit painful. Painful how obligated he felt to hold back; painful how much he wanted her in ways that precariously traversed the fine line between right and wrong.

Pale blue splashed both their faces as they basked, intertwined, within the solitary stream of moonlight. Tiny beads of sweat shimmered like diamonds on their skin, twinkling with every fluid motion.

Leon's hands tightened around her thighs, not realizing when he'd instinctively begun rocking himself against her in a slow, gentle rhythm. A bullet to the chest would've been more bearable, he thought, as a long forsaken throbbing sensation tantalized him beneath the subjecting friction.

It was Mathilda's choice to break away next, breath hitched under the crushing pressure of her elevating heart rate. Rapt with an invigorating high off the seeping pheromones, she dropped her attention to Leon's chest and let her adventurous hands slide down it, ardently exploring every groove of his muscular build beneath the fabric of his shirt. And Leon just sat there, allowing her, watching her. Fervid eyes flashed back up to meet his. He looked drunk. A gaze ordinarily lucid and alert had become heavy and blear. But Mathilda soon decided that she enjoyed seeing him in such a state, acknowledging in that moment exactly how powerful of an impact she had on him. It made her feel special. She wanted to make him feel special too.

Hands travelled lower and lower; she was kissing him again, much heavier than before, blindly feeling her way to the waistline of his trousers. Her fingers fumbled around in search of the zipper, and were swift to locate it after freeing a pair of buttons. The swelled area provided a great deal of effort in dislodging the silver fastening, eventually forcing her to break the kiss in order to investigate the obstacle. Pinching the seam in a way that she hoped would do the trick, she gave the zipper a hearty tug and it finally came loose, revealing the sully white fabric heaped beneath. Her eyes slowly trailed back up to his as soft, enticing fingers rested atop the liberated patch of warmth.

He flinched beneath her touch, reactively moving his hands to clasp firmly around her wrists.

"Mathilda..." A hoarseness had developed in his voice, so he swallowed in an effort to soothe the dryness. "Perhaps we should slow it down," he kindly suggested, glassy eyes glittering in the light as the tiniest ray of sense was finally peeking through his shutters of basic instinct.

"But... Leon..." Her gaze fluctuated between his eyes and his grip, lips quivering in doubt. "It doesn't feel like you want to slow down..." With her hands still locked in place, she smoothed out the tips of her fingers against him, emphasizing his very own physical contradiction.

Leon shut his eyelids and breathed deeply, distracted by the sensation if even for a moment, thinking about how long it had been since someone had touched him in such a way. Someone he loved, above all. It almost made him feel like crying again... almost. His eyes cranked open and he observed her through a subdued haze.

Relinquishing one of her wrists, he raised that hand to her face and brushed back the section of hair that had come loose from its previously secured position behind her ear.

"Mathilda, I–" He stopped himself for a moment, mouth hanging dry with an uncertainty of exactly what it was that he wanted to say or how to say it.

"You don't want to?" She asked after too stiff of a pause, voice cracking with a matched uncertainty.

But Leon was quick to shake the assumption. "I do want to... Truly... I just..." He'd unconsciously started petting her hair in an attempt to comfort her while still struggling to find the words that refused to make themselves known.

"Okay," Mathilda whispered, interrupting his train of thought by pressing two fingers to his lips. "I understand, Leon." Eyes locked on him with a gaze too mature for her age, she forced his arms down and out of the way.

Leon just stared in submissive silence as he watched her move, discreetly adjusting herself on top of him.

"I understand you can't do it..." Her discerning voice trailed off as she tailored to him next, not a single thing in the world as delicate as her touch in those fleeting minutes.

He didn't stop her.

"So I will do it."

Tension grew thick between that final divided moment. The surrounding air felt so cool against their elevated bodies, as cool as the blanket of blue light that filled the entire room. Shallow breaths diffused the silence, conquered only by rapidly beating hearts. Their adamantine stares mirrored equally, unbreakable, abstaining from even the slightest flutter, twinkling only against the rise and fall of each breath.

Softening her intense gaze, Mathilda's lips parted and she exhaled calmly.

"Okay?"

Leon calmly inhaled.

"Okay."

* * *

**A/N – I watched this film for the very first time a couple weeks ago, and will forever be haunted by the imprint it left on me. It is hands down one of the most tragic stories I've ever witnessed. I will never not be mad about the ending, but I'm not about to get into that. I wrote this as a headcanon to that specific scene in the film, because apparently in the original script the two of them were actually meant to get down and dirty at that point. Luckily they left it somewhat open-ended in the movie – I mean... anything could've happened in-between the cut, right? So this is my take on what transpired. Obviously it's as implied as can be, due to M rating and... taboo content. :)**

**Thanks for reading!**


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